Dating With Depression Sucks, But It's Not Impossible

There are endless aphorisms about love and dating that get branded into our brains from a very young age. Fortunately, most of them are bullshit. But the worst one is the notion that you must learn to love yourself before you can love anyone else. Why is this one the most bullshit? Because it fails to take into account histories of mental difference. It’s a turn of phrase without any nuance that serves to make those of us who are predisposed to feeling bad feel even worse. If communication is the key to a healthy relationship, this little nugget of fake news says those of us who might not love ourselves at all times aren’t allowed in the conversation and must lead lives free of love.

Uh, no?

I have been a depressed person for as long as I can remember, now that I have the language for it. There was the time in kindergarten when I looked up at the sky and asked why I’ll always be a little “off,” the time when my crush repeatedly asked why I was sad all the time in second grade, and the My Chemical Romance songs that resonated a little too deeply within me in junior high. There are more adult examples later in life, but they’re not nearly as funny or tragic. Managing mood on a day-to-day basis is an uphill, hellish hike of complete uncertainty, but it’s something I’ve grown to understand. Some days, getting out of bed is impossible, while other days I’m reminded that I’ve got a nice life.

Dating with depression enters tricky territory. Dating means my burden gets to become someone else’s for a little bit, and it’s hard to comprehend why anyone would want to join a depressed person on that particular ride. We will be forced to leave things early sometimes, I will cry, I will disengage, you will think it’s you, do you still want to hold hands?

A challenging part of dating while depressed is a challenging part of dating in general: Putting yourself out there in ways that won’t make you want to self-immolate. For a long time, I joined Tinder and Bumble and all the sites you’re supposed to join as a hip young person, only to find that I could never bring myself to deliver on a date because I could never bring myself to actually leave my house. This has happened innumerable times, especially when it comes to any commitment involving the evening, the weekend, whenever the sun is up, whenever the sun is down, bars, movies, restaurants, and the planet Earth. I became particularly good at creating excuses (heads up for family and friends: there is never a gas leak) which once left me with the nickname “Squirmy Shermie,” which I assume was supposed to be an endearing term about being a damn flake.

Instead, I've found that meeting people in venues I’d normally occupy anyway helped alleviate certain stresses. I go to a lot of concerts, and striking up conversations there felt easier—there’s a mutual interest and I don’t have to force myself to meet Travis No-Last-Name at a fancy restaurant. If I’m jelling with a dude in the crowd, we can get a drink after and see what happens. It’s not a perfect system, but it’s certainly worked for me: gigs have led to nachos have led to beers have led to real romance.

If you’re someone with depression who meets people online (tell me your secret?) pick places that make you comfortable. Location affects mood, and if you’re feeling anxious it can help to choose your meet-up spot: a café you love, a calming park, your local dungeon, whatever’s your thing.

While transparency is crucial, telling someone you have depression too early (like, on the first date) is probably not the best move. Too much too fast is a mood-killer, and it can sometimes read as being a little nuts? I’m not going to tell you about the time I left the country with complete strangers, either, and at least that makes me seem insane and interesting. I once revealed myself to a person with whom I felt an intoxicating chemistry, and after two cinematic days together felt I wasn’t wrong for informing him of my condition. He quickly ghosted with little more than an “I can’t handle this right now.” It’s nothing to handle, and he is a dumbass, but I don’t blame him for thinking I was offering up a hard pill to swallow. What I thought was kindness was misinterpreted—a miscommunication that occurs when you don’t really know someone.

Your depression isn’t anyone else’s, but if you are looking to grow a relationship with someone, give them the opportunity to know you first: Warts-and-all comes later if the other person is worthy of your vulnerabilities. The stigma surrounding mental health is still very real. Perhaps introduce the concept with a film or TV show later down the dating line and see how your person reacts. If they’re not open to it, they probably blow. In recent history I’ve learned to use You’re The Worst—it’s the most accurate portrayal of depression, at least, my depression, I’ve seen in ages and I’m not alone in thinking so.

But maybe the best piece of advice I have when it comes to dating with depression—and something I wish I realized much sooner—is that it’s OK to listen to your brain, even if it makes you miserable. If you don’t think you’re in the position to date seriously, give yourself space to manage your own mental difference. Yeah, it might mean missing out on something wonderful, but wonderful tends to wait when it’s real. I’ve broken things off in the past that seemed promising in order to work on myself, and I regret nothing. You’re doing what’s best for yourself and for the other person. It’s not a conversation of fixing what’s wrong—nothing is wrong with you. It’s learning how to enjoy spending time with yourself and how to enjoy spending time with yourself and another person.

The biggest hurdle is often being honest and open when it comes to accepting help. I am a depressed person who also happens to be in love, and it’s been an arduous journey to get here. But if you’ve got a good partner, they’ll want to be there for you, and that can be fucking scary. Suffering alone is not easy, but it avoids the embarrassment and grief that comes along with laying it all out there. But guess what? It’s much easier to be a person with someone who loves you. It’s absolutely terrifying, but it’s worth the attempt. After all, there are 18 million people in the United States who suffer from depression, and most of them are probably dating.

There’s no secret to uncover here, other than dating is possible and love rocks.